


Block Party

by heros_wings



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, GOT7, JYJ (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst, Drabbles, Fluff, M/M, Romance, age gap, one shots, trying to cure writers block, tumblr requests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:23:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 13,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5325599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heros_wings/pseuds/heros_wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Curing my writers block with a collection of DBSK/JYJ and GOT7 drabbles based off various tumblr requests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jaejoong/Yoochun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who requested: "Jaechun - trying to sneak out and get away"
> 
> Apologies in advance to all of the anons who requested something. I hope I don't disappoint anyone too much.
> 
> Pairing: Jaejoong/Yoochun  
> Rating: G

It wasn't like it was the first time. 

Waiting for their manager’s bedroom door to shut, slipping out of bed, catching each other's eyes in the darkness that was illuminated only by Jaejoong’s phone, and tip-toeing through the door, into the hallway.

They shared identical grins as they passed Yunho and Changmin’s room, hearing Changmin murmuring in his sleep and Yunho’s soft sigh as he waited for it to cease.

Junsu was passed out on the couch, controller dangling from one hand, soccer game flashing “YOU LOSE” across the TV screen.

Without a word, they grabbed their shoes and slipped out the front door.

It was a simple ritual. An easy, familiar one. Something they did often and promised never to do again every time they were caught.

“Ramen?” Yoochun asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets, breath white in the cold December air.

Jaejoong shrugged and pulled a cigarette from his inside coat pocket.

Tomorrow was Christmas. And they were in Japan. Away from family and friends, schedule packed, no one but each other to spend it with. It was a bittersweet thing: sharing a cigarette with Yoochun as they walked, each missing the people they loved most while wanting nothing more than to spend the first hours of Christmas together.

Sneaking out had become their routine. A thing that was more exhilarating than standing on stage, no matter how many times they did it. It was their escape. Each trip outside felt like grand adventure despite the ramen shop being a mere five minute walk from their apartment. It was always open late into the night, even on Christmas Eve, as if knowing two young men would shuffle in from the cold, if only for a temporary illusion of freedom.

Halfway through the spiciest ramen he could order, Jaejoong’s phone rang.

_‘I know you snuck out.’_

“Yunho…” he muttered, slurping another mouthful of ramen and turning his phone to silent.

A sharp knock on the window made them turn in unison, and Yoochun groaned. Yunho stood outside, arms crossed, expression grumpy and sleep-deprived.

“I told you we should have gone to Hokkaido.”

 

On New Year's Eve, halfway to Osaka, with Yoochun napping on his shoulder, Jaejoong’s phone vibrated.

_'Please tell me you're still in Japan.’_

Grinning, Jaejoong replied, _'See you tomorrow,'_ and turned off his phone.

He didn't wake Yoochun until they reached Hiroshima.


	2. Mark/Jackson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who requested JYP breaking up Markson, and Markson going to Jinyoung and Bambam for comfort. To that anon, I feel like I should apologize for how this turned out, but the idea stuck once I thought of it.
> 
> broken!Markson
> 
> Pairing: Mark/Jackson  
> Rating: G

Somehow...Mark knew from the beginning, the moment “just friends” and “just roommates” turned into stolen kisses and secret glances and “just for you” smiles, that it would all end eventually.

It was too complicated. Too reckless. Too dangerous.

Knowing all of this didn't lessen the sting when their CEO pulled them out of dance practice, and turned to them with a tired sigh. “Whatever is going on between the two of you needs to stop.”

Jackson tensed next to him. His fingers twitched in his lap, like his first instinct was to reach for him. Mark shifted away and kept his own hands in his lap, schooling his expression into something between politely confused and bored, like it hadn't hurt to pull away.

And that was it.

Just as suddenly and silently as they began, they ended.

 

That night, he slept in Yugyeom’s bed with the excuse that their room was infested with bugs.

He pretended not to notice the way Jackson curled around Bambam one bed over. He’d used the same excuse.

 

“Your room hasn't had a single bug in it for two weeks,” Jinyoung frowned at him, propped against a mountain of pillows in the nook he called a room.

Mark was flipping through a manhwa Jay had let him borrow, not really seeing  what was on the pages.

Between promotions and his own misery, he barely noticed two weeks had passed. In front of cameras, he and Jackson were the same — smiling and affectionate and simply _together_. He thought the rest of the members would assume everything off camera — the quiet brooding, the careful distance, the avoidance — was simply their hectic schedule. And with Jackson constantly in and out of the dorm, rushing between promotions in Korea and China, Mark thought it would be easier.

It wasn't.

“Did you have a fight?” Jinyoung asked, flipping a page in his book, not looking up. Mark knew he was listening.

He shrugged, hoping it would be enough. It was enough when Jaebum asked. When Yugyeom asked. When Youngjae threw him concerned looks and Bambam told him he was acting strange.

The silence stretched between them. And with anyone else, Mark would have welcomed it. He would have felt like he won. Got away with once again hiding behind his walls.

But with Jinyoung it was different. The silence was a weight that suffocated him until finally it all became too much.

“It hurts…” he whispered, knowing Jinyoung would understand. Because Jinyoung knew his silences. His walls. His guards. He knew the meaning behind his shrugs and his smiles and his “I’m okay's".

Sighing, Jinyoung pulled the manhwa from Mark's hands, and dragged him over until he was tucked neatly at his side, head resting on his shoulder, Jinyoung’s arm around him.

“This book is really interesting…” he murmured.

 

* * *

 

Jackson stumbled through the front door, exhausted, having just landed a few hours ago, and running on two hours of sleep.

He stripped off his airport clothes in favor of his favorite hoodie and pair of sweats, with every intention of collapsing onto Bambam’s bed and sleeping for a week.

When he saw Mark curled against Jinyoung’s side, eyes closed, breathing steady, expression more relaxed than it had been in weeks, the stabbing pain he had carefully buried under a packed schedule, paralyzed him.

“Hyung?” Bambam never had better timing.

He glanced over to see where Jackson was staring. Jinyoung, still immersed in quietly reading the book out loud, hadn't noticed them yet.

A hand tugged on Jackson’s arm.

“It's about time you got back,” Bambam pulled him out of the room, linking his arm with Jackson’s, smile bright, eyes worried. “Let's go for meat. Your treat.”

Numb, Jackson let's himself be dragged back out, to their favorite barbecue place just around the corner.

Bambam asked Jackson how China was. If he was able to sleep on the plane; whether he met any pretty girls; if he brought home any good fan gifts to share with the rest of the members…

Jackson tried to pull himself together and smile. He jokingly told Bambam even if he met any pretty girls, he'd never introduce him to them, and he would definitely never share the gifts fans gave him.

His voice sounded hollow. Fake. Unlike himself.

After paying, he and Bambam headed back into the cold, and took the long way home.

“He misses you too, you know…” Bambam said as they passed their apartment a second time.

Jackson continued walking, throat tightening.

“Bam…” Jackson sighed, “not today.”

Relentless, Bambam powered on. “Jaebum-hyung said he'd talk to—”

"—I said not today!" he snapped.

Startled, Bambam stopped walking. When he didn't follow, Jackson sighed again, guilt weaving through the frustration.

"Sorry..." he muttered, turning back towards Bambam. He smiled, a little less forced, and a little more genuine this time as he slung his arm around Bambam's shoulders. "Let's go in."

 

It was a month before Jackson could sleep in their room.

 

Two before they could be alone together without a thread of longing forcing one of them to leave or find another member to ease the tension.

 

Six months later, in Japan, Jackson was fighting yet another night of insomnia as Bambam snored softly one bed over, when his phone buzzed.

_"Are you hungry?"_

 


	3. Jaejoong/Changmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who wanted Jaemin fluff to smut in 2.7 seconds. I apologize for being trash and ending it the way I did. Smut is far and few between for me and I like being mean.
> 
> Pairing: Jaejoong/Changmin  
> Rating: R

“Fuck it.”

Changmin couldn't take it anymore.

He grabbed Jaejoong’s shoulders, and slammed him into the wall next to the room Jaejoong shared with Yoochun.

“What the f—!”

“I think I might love you,” he breathed, lips brushing as he spoke.

He didn’t wait for an answer. Didn’t give Jaejoong a chance to push him away. To tell him to stop or run or break his heart. He just pressed closer, covering Jaejoong's lips with his, and wedging a knee between his thighs.

The sound that vibrated from Jaejoong's throat as he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, thrummed down his spine like a perfectly tuned guitar string.

He couldn't even remember what they were fighting about. Dinner or shoes not properly placed in the entrance or–

Warm hands crept under his shirt. His skin pebbled where finger tips ghosted across his side. He stepped closer, but Jaejoong's hands on his stomach stopped him.

Jaejoong pulled away just enough to grin against his lips before shoving him away.

Confused, hurt creeping into his chest, Changmin tensed, fighting the urge to run or pull him close again.

But then his back hit the opposite wall, and Jaejoong had him pinned, hands buried in his hair, teeth tugging on his bottom lip.

“How much?” Jaejoong breathed, pulling him forward, walking backwards, into his room, not stopping until they were toppling onto his bed.

 _Too much_ , he thought, forcing Jaejoong's shirt over his head, before capturing his lips again.

He tugged on Jaejoong's belt.

A whine caught the back of his throat as Jaejoong's fingers wrapped around his wrist to stop him. He tugged again, insistent. Jaejoong grinned and flipped them over so he was straddling Changmin's waist.

He leaned down, eyes sparkling with mischief as he brushed Changmin's bangs from his eyes.

“Who said you’d top?”


	4. Yunho/Yoochun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A 2U snowboarding AU for anon :)
> 
> Pairing: Yoochun/Yunho  
> Rating: G

Before every snowboarding competition, he was asked the same questions: “How do you feel today?” “What are the conditions like out there?” and “How do you think Jung Yunho will do today?”

The last one always made him grin.

He and Yunho had practically grown up together through the sport, always competing against each other, trading championship medals. The one exception was the World Junior Finals when they were still teenagers, and they represented South Korea together.

But even then, Yunho had snagged the individual gold, and Yoochun had taken silver. Yoochun paid him back by winning gold the very next year.

Now, a year before their first Olympics, the world was debating who would take gold, and who would take silver.

As for Yunho and Yoochun…

“Yah…” Yoochun stalked over to Yunho in the large tent that served as a heated waiting and changing area for competitors. “Is that my hat?”

Yunho grinned, unapologetically tugging the hat more securely around his ears. “Maybe.”

He opened his mouth to tell him to _take it off and wear your own_ , but Yunho reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling him forward until his arms were around securely around Yoochun.

He glanced frantically around the empty tent.

It was one thing to be friends with your competition.

But Yoochun was pretty sure no one in South Korea wanted to know that the competition was also sleeping together.

“Wish me luck,” Yunho pouted at him.

It was adorable. And Yoochun had learned over the years just how hard it was to say no to that look.

Already he felt his knees weakening and the competitiveness he held tight before every meet, waver.

He yanked down the hat so it covered Yunho’s eyes, and silenced his surprised “yah!” with a soft kiss.

“Good luck,” he grinned against his lips, “you’ll need it.”


	5. Jaejoong/Changmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sweet-emy-0317 wanted an incest age gap and this is the closest thing I could write.
> 
> Pairing: Jaejoong/Changmin  
> Rating: R

In every high school there was always that one teacher everyone had a crush on. In Changmin’s, it was his music teacher. At 28-years-old, with broad shoulders, a pretty face, and perfectly styled light brown hair, half the school still believed the rumors that he had once been part of an idol group.

He was also Changmin’s brother-in-law.

Which wouldn't be a problem.

Except Changmin had been harboring an ill-fated crush since he first saw him at his sister's wedding three years ago.

It was the reason he decided to go to a public high school with an average academic program when he could have gone to any top private school in Seoul. His sister had even insisted he live with them to be closer to school.

It was wrong. Totally fucked up in every way.  But he couldn't say no. He knew he was digging his own grave or paving his own path to hell. And he couldn't bring himself to care.

For two years, he buried his fluttering pulse and impossible fantasies with a scowl and feigned dislike.

None of it seemed to deter Jaejoong from trying to act like a doting in-law trying to win the affection of the younger, kind of ornery younger brother. 

There were times he even seemed to _enjoy_ it.

Every time Changmin scowled, he could see the corners of Jaejoong’s lips twitch like he was suppressing a smile. After music class, he felt Jaejoong’s eyes linger on him as he left. He noticed the way Jaejoong sat too close on the couch. Or leaned over his shoulder has he “helped” with homework.

There were times the scowls and the biting remarks weren't enough. When the fantasies couldn't be driven away with video games or homework or dirty magazines he stole from Junsu.

And during his third year, the walls he meticulously built over the years began to crumble.

He found excuses to stay in the music room after school, complaining that it was too noisy in the classroom, and too quiet in the library to study.

“You could go home,” Jaejoong chuckled. A simple melody echoed through the empty classroom as he fingered the piano keys.

Changmin shrugged and put his headphones on as if he actually had music playing through them.

 

One day, Changmin made it to the music room before Jaejoong and sat at the piano, his fingers spread across the keys the way he always saw Jaejoong play.

“Want me to teach you?” Jaejoong slid into the piano bench next to him, forcing him over, legs and shoulders pressed together.

Their hands bumped as Jaejoong played a few notes.

Changmin sprang out of his seat, ears red, hand burning.

“Noona said to be home early today. She's cooking,” he muttered, grabbing his bag.

Jaejoong responded with a few melancholy notes that followed Changmin out the door.

 

He returned to the music room the next day.

“Teach me.”

He dropped onto the piano bench as if he didn't want to be there. As if he hadn't thought about the feel of Jaejoong's hands dancing across his skin instead of piano keys. Hadn't wrapped his fingers around himself the night before thinking about it. Wanting it. 

Thoughts of _it’s not right_ and _he's married to your sister_ faded into images of Jaejoong biting his lips when he concentrated on something, or the way his tongue darted out to wet them when he was thinking…

He reached for Jaejoong, fingers catching his tie.

“Changmin—”

He tugged. Jaejoong fell forward, catching himself with one hand on the piano, and the other on Changmin’s shoulder.

"Don’t tell my sister…” he whispered, grip tightening on the tie as he pulled Jaejoong closer.

He hesitated. Jaejoong's breath on his lips, eyes wide, fingers digging into his shoulder. 

“Just this once,” sighed against his lips before Jaejoong covered them with his own.


	6. JYJ

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a request for JYJ as bank robbing Christmas house elves.
> 
> Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays!
> 
> Rating: G

 

Ok...

So...

Technically Jaejoong knew house elves weren't supposed to rob banks. They were _house elves_ , as Junsu not-so-helpfully pointed out when Jaejoong pulled three costumes from the old dusty trunk in the attic. They were supposed to iron clothes, dust hard-to-reach places, and return keys to their proper place so their homeowners didn't lose them.

And that led them to another technicality — they needed a family to serve.

Which they didn't.

Not for nearly two years.

So there wasn't much to do for out-of-work house elves other than maybe keep up with the house cleaning for the next owner. But what was the point when everyone thought their house was haunted?

Which, Junsu again not-so-helpfully reminded Jaejoong, was entirely his fault. House elves were also supposed to quietly clean the little things and places where their homeowners couldn't reach. But Jaejoong frequently knocked over one-too-many vases.

"It's _Christmas_ , Junsu," Jaejoong said, tugging on the fabric of a Christmas tree costume that had been left behind by one of the previous owners. "It's about _giving_."

Junsu raised an eyebrow as Jaejoong tossed the costume to Yoochun, who had been lazing on a moth-eaten couch, watching them argue.

"And yet you're taking," he retorted sarcastically, "makes total sense."

Jaejoong huffed, and pulled out a snowman costume. "Didn't Robin Hood take from the rich and give to the poor?" He threw the costume at Junsu. "It's the same thing."

"No it's not!" Junsu chucked the costume back at Jaejoong. "And who are you going to be giving that money to anyway? We don't have a family!"

" _Obviously_ it's for other families," Jaejoong replied, looking quite pleased with himself. "If we can't help our own family, we should help others."

_"WE DON'T HAVE A FAMILY!"_

Deaf to reason, Jaejoong pulled out a Santa jacket and hat, and shrunk it down to fit his three-foot frame. The argument was clearly over. They were going to rob a bank and buy toys for the orphanage a few blocks away.

"It's not the worst idea he's had," Yoochun shrugged, pulling on the tree costume and shrinking it to size, "remember the time he bought that Great Pyrenees?"

"He didn't buy him he stole him from the neighbors!"

Yoochun shrugged again.

And that was how Junsu ended up standing in front of the nearest bank, dressed in a child-sized snowman costume that was still too big for him, with Jaejoong on his left, bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet, and Yoochun on his right, napping against the wall next to a fake Christmas tree, red Rudolph nose barely clinging to his nose.

They were apparently waiting for the bank to close so they could slip through undetected. Jaejoong still failed to explain why they were wearing costumes that, in Junsu's opinion, were highly detectable.

"Who is going to suspect _Santa Claus?"_ Jaejoong hissed, when Junsu pointed this out.

 

An hour later they used magic to disappear from their hiding spot and reappear just inside the bank.

"Why didn't we just do this _earlier_ and enter the _vault_?" Junsu seethed, as they crouched behind a potted plant, out of sight of the camera.

Jaejoong hadn't really thought out the whole "robbing a bank and not getting caught" thing.

"Who robs a bank in the middle of the day?" Jaejoong responded coolly.

" _Basically every bank robber ever!"_

Junsu's squeaky voice echoed through the empty room.

"And they all got _caught_."

Junsu opened his mouth to argue back, when Yoochun interrupted, "Uh...guys...I think they have a security elf."

Junsu and Jaejoong turned to see where Yoochun was pointing.

Emerging from just behind the cashier counter was a freakishly tall elf — about four-feet tall. Had it not been for his pointed ears and nose, Jaejoong would have thought he was simply a child.

Cursing, he turned to Junsu and Yoochun. "Ok, plan B."

"You actually have plans?" Junsu muttered grumpily, hiking up his snowman costume.

Jaejoong shot him a stern look before continuing, "Yoochun will stay out here and keep a look out. He's a tree so he won't get noticed—"

Junsu snorted, but Jaejoong plowed on, ignoring him, "we'll use magic to get in and out of the vault and then to the toy store."

" _Why didn't we just—"_

Jaejoong hushed him just as the security elf turned suspiciously in their direction.

Sighing, Junsu closed his eyes and let Jaejoong take his hand as they disappeared with a soft ' _pop!_ ' and reappeared in a vault.

"We don't need to take everything," Jaejoong whispered, walking over to the nearest shelf, opening his rucksack, "just enough to buy about a hundred toys."

Junsu rolled his eyes, "how honest of you."

Once they gathered enough money, they attempted to disappear out of the vault again. Except they couldn't. Every time Junsu tried to use his magic, it was like hitting a solid, invisible wall.

He and Jaejoong exchanged startled looks. Seconds later there was a soft _pop!_ and the security elf appeared with Yoochun clutched tightly in his right hand by one of the soft branches of his tree costume.

He smirked. "Every year there's always a few idiots..."

Yoochun just shrugged when Jaejoong shot him a silent _why-didn't-you-warn-us_.

As a last ditch effort to...maybe not get turned in and end up a homeless house elf, Jaejoong hid the rucksack behind his back. "I have no idea what you're talking about—" he squinted at the elf's nameplate on his chest "—Shim Changmin-ssi..."

Shim Changmin raised his eyebrow, and Jaejoong continued with a hasty, "We're the new cleaning crew!"

"Money vaults don't need cleaning."

Jaejoong took a step back. "What? Of course they do..." he swiped his finger across one of the many shelves, and showed the pad of his finger to Changmin. "See?" he smiled nervously.

Unimpressed, Changmin replied, "your finger is clean."

"Because we just cleaned it!"

"Nice try."

Jaejoong, Junsu, and Yoochun exchanged glances.

Out of ideas, Junsu decided honesty might at least get them out of the vault without losing more than just the money that wasn't theirs to begin with.

"We were trying to get money to send toys to the orphanage near where we live."

There was a short pause, before Changmin replied, "there are elves to take care of that...toy elves...you know...the ones people call Santa's elves."

They definitely didn't know that.

Jaejoong backed up again with a nervous laugh. "That's what we are?"

Changmin smirked again.

 

And _that_ was how Junsu, Jaejoong, and Yoochun ended up in elf court on Christmas morning, still clad in their costumes, staring up at an elder, who couldn't stop laughing long enough to actually sentence them, and instead sent them home.

 

The very next Christmas, Jaejoong pulled out the costumes again. " _This_ year—"

Junsu disappeared before he could finish.


	7. Mark/Jaebum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who wanted a bunch of misunderstandings where Mark thinks JB loves Junior, and JB thinks Mark loves Jackson, when in reality Mark and JB just love each other and are too blind to see it.
> 
> Pairing: Mark/JB  
> Rating: G  
> 

If there was one thing Mark knew he was good at, it was that he knew what people wanted and how to exploit it.

He knew if he wrapped his arm around Jackson's shoulder, the response would be ear-splitting shrieks.

He could read the atmosphere in any room and know how to match it.

And without saying a word, he knew how to draw every eye in the audience.

But when it came to Jaebum, he didn't know a thing.

From the time they met, Jaebum was a puzzle Mark couldn't solve.

He couldn't understand why he clung to Jinyoung, when Mark was right next to him. And he couldn't understand why he cared.

He couldn't understand the small smiles, secret glances, and late night trips to the convenience store. Or why, whenever they agreed on something, Jinyoung would joke, "as expected, we're JJ Project," and Jaebum would sling his arm around his neck and laugh into his shoulder.

He asked himself why, when Jaebum was finally of age, he went out drinking with Jinyoung and other friends, but not once had he ever gone drinking with Mark.

And while Mark struggled to understand the twist in his gut whenever he caught sight of a JJ Project banner, Jaebum wondered about the way Mark smiled at Jackson.

 "Yah, does it even make sense?" he complained, stretched across their couch, feet in Jinyoung's lap.

"Does what make sense?" Jinyoung asked in a bored tone, flipping through a new book.

 _After School Club_ played on low volume from their TV, but Jackson's "Welcome to the Markson Show!" seemed to echo loudly in Jaebum's ears.

Jinyoung looked up, saw what he was watching, and returned to his book with a sigh. "They're roommates and they both speak English," he said, as if that explained everything.

Jaebum scowled and flipped to another channel.

It didn't make sense.

Not when they already had a packed schedule. Not when the rest of GOT7 could easily guest on the show. Not when Jackson and Mark already spent too much time together.

 

*

 

"Do you think Jaebum is acting strange?" Mark asked, dumping a pack of ramen seasoning into the pot and stirring.

Jackson rested his chin on Mark's shoulder with a hopeful look at what would become their shared late night dinner. It had become something of a routine whenever Jackson was the last back to the dorm — Mark would wait for him while denying that he was, and then make the only meal they knew how to cook without burning down the apartment.

"Strange?" he asked, accepting the spoon full of broth Mark held in front of his lips. With a satisfied nod, he reached over and turned off the stove.

Mark shrugged and picked up the pot, thinking about the way Jaebum had greeted him from the couch. The image of him under a blanket with Jinyoung had burned itself into his mind.

When he turned, he saw Jaebum standing in the entrance of their kitchen, eyes cold, jaw clenched.

"Oh..." Jackson smiled apologetically as he jumped to sit on the counter, chopsticks in hand. "Sorry, did we wake you?"

Mark set the pot down and avoided Jaebum's gaze.

"We have an early schedule tomorrow," he replied icily.

Jackson paused mid-slurp to look up at him.

"Make sure your faces don't swell."

He left.

"You're right,"  Jackson finished slurping up his noodles, "he's acting strange."

Sighing, Mark poked at the noodles, no longer hungry.

 

*

 

 It wasn't like Mark was sulking.

He was 22.

He didn't sulk.

"You're totally sulking," Jackson laughed, snapping his laptop shut.

He had been watching the JJ Project _Ceci_ photoshoot backstage video on loop since it was uploaded.

One room over, Jaebum scowled at the Markson _Sure_ scans a fan had reposted all over their fan cafe.

"They don't even look that good together," he grumbled under his breath.

Youngjae peered over the edge of his bed, and sighed when he saw the picture. "Go to bed, hyung."

 

*

 

During dance practice, Jaebum finally had enough.

Jackson was supposed to fall, and Mark was supposed to catch him. But somehow Mark had stumbled back, and Jackson landed on top of him, and _how hard was it to catch someone._

"YAH!" he glared at Jackson, because he was clearly doing it on purpose. "If you can't get it right—"

"It's midnight, hyung," Bambam whined, collapsing onto the floor. "Can't we take a break?"

Jaebum opened his mouth, ready for a fight, when Jinyoung cut in with a calming hand on his shoulder. They both missed the way Mark's eyes narrowed.

"Five minutes," he said.

Jaebum caught his eye and sighed. "Fine."

Mark stood and left. Jaebum made to follow, but then Jackson stood and slung his arm around his neck as they left together.

Next to him, Jinyoung sighed.

 

*

 

Exhausted, Jaebum dragged himself into the kitchen, knowing he needed to eat, and wanting to do nothing but collapse into bed and sleep.

Jinyoung and Youngjae greeted him, expressions serious.

He raised an eyebrow. "What's this?"

"An intervention," Jinyoung said shortly, striding forward and grabbing his arm.

Jaebum jerked back with a disbelieving laugh. "What?"

Youngjae grabbed his other arm and they dragged him towards Mark and Jackson's room. "You're both driving us crazy."

They opened the door and shoved him into the room.

"Jackson's in China," Jinyoung said, "so we're locking you in."

They slammed the door shut and somehow managed to block it from the outside.

"YAH!" Jaebum threw his shoulder against the door but it didn't budge.

A long sigh behind him made him turn. Mark was splayed on top of a futon on the floor, phone in hand as usual — the bunk bed he shared with Jackson had been turned into a shelf/clothes rack and hadn't been usable for months.

"No use," he said, glancing at Jaebum, "Bam and Yugyeom locked me in here an hour ago."

He punched the door for good measure and collapsed on the futon next to Mark. Because despite everything — the racing pulse, the heart fluttering nerves, the heavy weight in his stomach when he thought about Jackson — Mark was still his best friend.

"Why are we here?"

Mark shrugged.

"BECAUSE YOU TWO ARE IDIOTS!" Bambam shouted from the other side of the door.

"Waah," Jinyoung's voice joined, "can two people really be so clueless?"

Jaebum chucked one of Jackson's shoes at the door. "YAH!"

"You have all night, hyungs," Yugyeom sing-songed, before four pairs of feet quickly skittered away from the door.

"GOT7 doesn't need seven members, right?" Jaebum muttered, flopping down again. He tried not to notice the way their shoulders brushed when Mark chuckled.

"GOT3 doesn't really have the same ring to it."

A long silence stretched between them. Until finally, Mark tossed his phone to the side with a sigh.

"Why _are_ we here, Jaebum-ah?"

His lungs seemed to tighten at the endearment. Mark rarely called him that.

He turned his head and just stared. All the words he wanted to say were right on the tip of his tongue, but none of them could escape.

_Do you like Jackson._

_Do you love him._

_Can you love me instead._

Mark turned his head and their eyes met.

And somehow the answers were just there. In the way Mark looked at him. In the way Jaebum knew Mark never looked at anyone else.

Mark seemed to see something in his eyes and smiled.

Because if there was one thing Mark now understood, it was Jaebum.

 _Are you stupid,_ he thought, _how could I love anyone else._


	8. Yunho/Changmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who wanted a HoMin hacker AU!
> 
> Yunho’s phone is hacked. Scared of embarrassing pictures being leaked, he hires hacker Changmin to help.
> 
> Pairing: Yunho/Changmin  
> Rating: PG-13 for language

He’d had his apartment broken into, he’d been followed home by no less than 10 taxis full of fans, set up on a blind date with a stalker, had bras and panties thrown at him _at the airport_ …

One, particularly well-connected fan even tried to have him kidnapped.

Then there was the fake marriage license incident.

The point was, Yunho was used to things like being followed and having his phone hacked. After 12 years of being one of the top Kpop stars, it was, unfortunately, nothing new.

Except this time, he made one, monumental mistake.

A single night full of soju and bad decisions and even worse pictures had been in his phone when it was hacked. And now a fan had everything.

He couldn't even tell his manager because he had more-or-less snuck out. And while a 29-year-old man only months away from military enlistment shouldn't have to be babysat like an 18-year-old rookie, Yunho was pretty sure he would go right back to living in the company dorms, with two managers underfoot at all times, if he didn't get those pictures back.

_‘5 million won.’_

Yunho gaped at his computer screen.

He knew venturing into the seedy underbelly of the Internet to find a decent hacker with tight lips was going to cost but…

_‘5 million won?!’_

_‘Per photo.’_

Now the guy was just fucking with him.

He typed back furiously. It had taken him over a week to find the guy people called “You-Know-Who” — a title he earned with the skull and snake signature he left behind as a calling card.

Though Yunho also knew he went by another name: Max.

_‘If you don’t want my services…’_

Yunho glowered at the screen. Max was the best hacker in South Korea according to less-than-reputable sources. And he really needed those pictures.

 _‘10 million won for all of them,’_ he typed.

 _‘There’s 10 pictures, Yunho-ssi,’_ Max typed back, _‘3 million won for each.’_

He froze. Fingers hovering over the keyboard. Max replied again before he could.

_‘Who do you think these crazy girls go to for these things?’_

Furious, Yunho replied, _‘10 million and I don’t call the police.’_

_‘15 and I won’t release the one with you kissing that actor.’_

Fuck.

_‘Deal.’_

Max logged off without responding.

 

Three days went by, and Yunho had been unable to find Max again. He tossed and turned each night, thinking the next morning would be the one he would wake up to his eye-shadowed and lipsticked face plastered across the internet.

He doubted, “I lost a bet,” would work as an excuse, no matter how true.

Even the images of him dressed in a tight leather skirt and low-cut blouse showing off fake cleavage weren't nearly as damning as the one with his lips planted firmly on Park Yoochun’s.

That hadn't been so much of a bet as it was Yunho helping a friend make an oblivious Kim Jaejoong jealous.

It had worked. But he didn't think, “I was helping my idiot friend make my other idiot friend jealous,” would be a good enough excuse for the public.

“I realize celebrities are busy but, surely you can afford a cleaning service?”

An unfamiliar voice startled Yunho awake. He scrambled up in bed, and pressed himself against the headboard, eyes wide. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd woken up to someone in his bedroom, but usually that someone was a teenage girl. Not a...guy.

A tall...kind of really cute guy…

Cute stalker guy raised an eyebrow at him from where he sat in Yunho’s desk chair, legs crossed.

“You might want to move to an apartment with a better firewall in their security system,” he said, picking up Yunho’s phone as if it were his own, “no wonder so many fans break in.”

Yunho stared at him.

This was…

“Max…” he slumped against his pillows and let out a long, relieved breath.

The guy he was pretty sure was the hacker who had effectively swindled him out of 15 million won smirked and tossed Yunho’s phone to him.

“I fixed your firewall settings in case you want to take anymore career-ending photos.”

Glaring suspiciously at him, Yunho snatched up his phone and cradled it protectively against his chest.

“What are you doing here?”

Asking "how" seemed like a bit of a stupid question at this point.

Max’s smirk deepened and he leaned back like Yunho’s room belonged to him. “I found the person who hired the hacker who broke into your phone.”

Yunho narrowed his eyes. “Wasn't that you?” he clutched his phone tighter as Max laughed, eyes mismatching in adorably.

“No. Unlike Xia, I actually look into my clients, and I don't do celebrity stalkers. Too messy.”

“Then how did you—”

He stopped short when Max raised an eyebrow at him again.

“Hacking is a small world,” he answered, “word gets around quick, especially when it's a major target,” he picked at his fingernails, as if he was already bored with the conversation, “though you're a surprisingly frequent one…”

Yunho stared at him. For a guy who spent most of his time at a computer, Max looked more like a model who went to college in his spare time — shoulder-length black hair, bangs that fell messy into his eyes, long legs, lean figure, and surprisingly broad shoulders…

Max leaned forward with another smirk, elbows resting on his knees. “I think I'll change my conditions of payment.”

Yunho pressed back against his pillows again, suddenly feeling exposed in his tank top and boxers.

“Are we back down to 10 million won?” he tried to smile but a nervous laugh escaped instead as Max stood.

He felt something white hot drop low into his stomach. This was totally fucked up.

Max stopped just on the edge of his bed. He swallowed.

Totally fucked up.

 

Later that afternoon, with his phone ringing somewhere on the floor, Yunho groaned and groped blindly for it. His fingers found the cool plastic and wrapped around it.

“Hello?” he croaked.

“HAVE YOU SEEN THE INTERNET?! WHERE ARE YOU?!” his manager shrieked into the receiver.

He winced and pulled the phone away from his ear.

“I'm home. It's my day off,” he mumbled tiredly, sitting up slowly, and wincing again, muscles reminding him of what was probably a terrible decision.

He ran his hand through his hair and felt a piece of paper stuck to his forehead.

He peeled it off and read, eyes wide.

_PROPERTY OF SHIM CHANGMIN._

Who—

Oh.

No.

“I'll call you back, hyung,” he said, hanging up before his manager could protest.

Sure enough, “Shim Changmin” and “Jung Yunho” were trending on every major search engine.

Pictures from various angles of him clearly asleep, with the post-it perfectly readable in each photo, was on the homepage of every tabloid site. And, predictably, his fan sites were beside themselves.

A text popped onto his phone. _‘10 million won for me to remove it all.’_

Yunho punched in his reply, _‘most people just ask for a date.’_

_‘Where's the fun in that.’_

 

Two weeks later, his computer crashed and a green skull with a snake wrapped around it appeared on the screen.

Scowling, he stormed out of his room and into the kitchen.

“YAH!”

Changmin grinned at him from the kitchen table, laptop in front of him.

“Next time you want to change my tag to ‘Property of U-KNOW’, I suggest not being so obvious.”


	9. Yoochun/Changmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who wanted a Yoomin eloping proposal.
> 
> Paring: Yoochun/Changmin  
> Rating: G

It wasn't the first time one of them proposed. In fact, Yoochun was pretty sure he held the world record for the number of proposals received from a single person. He was also sure Changmin had lost count himself the number of times Yoochun muttered, “let's just get married.”

But this time it was different.

This time it wasn't said in jest or in response to the frustration that came with dating for years and everyone expecting it.

This time it was said with Changmin staring at him from across their small kitchen table, eyes holding none of the teasing spark they usually did when the topic came up.

Yoochun laughed nervously. “That's what you say after I burned half our dinner?”

Changmin didn't laugh. Yoochun’s smile fell.

“Real romantic, you are,” he scoffed, picking at his dinner, “not even a ring.”

Changmin slid a small box across the table, and suddenly Yoochun couldn't breathe.

Of all the times they said they would just go to the nearest courthouse, sign the marriage papers, and take the first flight out of the country to a remote island, Yoochun never actually believed that there would be a time one of them would have to say yes.

Of course, he had a ring hidden in his bedside drawer too — buried under years of rubbish. He took it out every time one of them turned down the other’s proposal in one way or another, wondering about the day he could ask without hiding under the veil of a joke. 

He swallowed and opened the box. Inside was a simple silver band encrusted with tiny diamonds that wrapped all the way around.

Without a word, he stood and retrieved the ring he kept hidden.

He offered Changmin a small smile when he returned, easing away the vulnerable look that was so unlike him.

“Only if we get to go to Bora Bora,” he said, sliding the box across the table.

Changmin took it. The ring was made of white gold lined with diamond bands along the edges. Simple. Beautiful. Yoochun had bought it without even a second thought. 

Smiling, Changmin slipped the ring on. “Deal.”


	10. Jaejoong/Changmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who requested Jaemin's stupidest fight. I struggled between being serious and angsty to being stupid and cracky, and I went with door #2.
> 
> Pairing: Jaejoong/Changmin  
> Rating: PG (mention of sex)

 

There was very little they Jaejoong and Changmin _didn't_ fight about. 

They fought over seats in the van, over spots on the couch, they even fought over who got to use the shower first.

 “You take forever!” Changmin growled, shoving Jaejoong out of the bathroom and trying to force the door shut.

 Jaejoong stuck his foot between the door and the frame, arm reaching through the crack to grab a fist full of Chagmin's shirt. “I'm older!”

Changmin pried his fingers off and pushed him away again. He slammed the door shut and locked it.

Jaejoong pounded on the other side with a furious, “YAH!”

“Maybe next time, hyung!” he sing-songed as he stripped and turned on the shower.

After all, Jaejoong was never _truly_ angry at him. As often as they fought, Changmin knew the moment they settled back in their van after a schedule, Jaejoong would ask, “What do you want for dinner?” and every member would stay silent because they knew the question wasn't meant for them.

And while Changmin would complain loudly that Jaejoong was using his shampoo, his body soap, his aftershave, his _socks —_ it was a rare occasion for Changmin to be truly angry with Jaejoong. When he was, it didn't last long and usually led to harsh kisses that simmered into soft touches and sweat-slicked skin.

But there some things that were just...off limits.

Things they didn't touch.

Changmin left Jaejoong’s face products and figurines alone.

Jaejoong left everything in the fridge labeled “SHIM CHANGMIN” alone.

And while the other members braved sneaking a bit of homemade kimchi or some of Changmin’s favorite low-calorie snacks, Jaejoong didn't. He understood the importance of food. The sanctity of it.

He wouldn't dare touch his food.

Much less the last piece of strawberry cheesecake.

The slice he claimed with no less than 10 post it notes written in English, Japanese, and Korean warning off anyone with a sweet tooth and sticky fingers.

So why the fuck.

“I didn't take your cheese cake!” Jaejoong repeated irritably for the fifth time since Changmin stormed into his room.

Yoochun left the moment Changmin had shown up, murderous aura flowing off him and towards the nearest victim. The traitor.

“You were the last person in the kitchen,” Changmin growled accusingly. He couldn't believe Jaejoong would do this to him. He knew. He _knew_ the rules.

“Did you install a CCTV in the kitchen?” Jaejoong asked, legitimately worried.

Glowering, Changmin left, slamming the door behind him.

If Jaejoong was going to go around eating his things and denying it.

Then fuck their boundaries.

 

A distressed cry came from the bathroom later that night. 

“What happened to my toner?! My serums!” Jaejoong flew into the living room where Changmin was in a heated Smash Bros battle with Junsu, with Yunho monitoring over the top of a book. Last time Junsu and Changmin were left to game without supervision, they had to buy a new console.

He didn't miss the way Changmin smirked even as he landed two good hits against Junsu.

“I don't know, hyung, what happened to them?” he asked with feigned innocence.

Jaejoong gaped at him, speechless.

He had gone into the bathroom, ready to begin his usual 10-step routine, when he found his toner bottle near empty, and 3 different serums already half gone despite having _just_ bought them.

“For the last time I didn't touch your cheesecake!” he shouted.

No one caught the guilty flash in Yunho’s eyes as he hid behind his book again.

 

And so started one of the pettiest wars in their dorm since Yoochun accidentally flattened Junsu’s favorite soccer ball.

Changmin had taken to hoarding his food in his room.

And Jaejoong cooked everything he hated.

 

This went on for a week.

 

Changmin locked Jaejoong out of the van after a schedule, not opening the door until their manager showed up. By the time Jaejoong was free from the clutches of their fans, he was missing his scarf, a sleeve, half a pant leg, and he had whined the entire ride home that he had a bald patch where a fan had torn out a sizable chunk of hair.

The next day, Jaejoong changed the passcode to their dorm. Which, wouldn’t have been a big deal.

Except he was out drinking until the early hours of the morning with Heechul, which left Yunho, Changmin, Junsu, and Yoochun to search for the building maintenance for over an hour.

 

“This has to stop,” Junsu groaned, pulling in Jaejoong’s frozen boxers from the balcony two days later (Changmin had soaked them and “left them out to dry” in sub-zero temperatures overnight).

In the kitchen, Yunho frowned at the food in the fridge — everything, including the yogurt he most definitely bought the other day, was labeled “SHIM CHANGMIN” with a threatening skull and crossbones doodle at the end of his name.

He glanced over the fridge door at Junsu, who was grumbling on his way to the laundry room with Jaejoong’s boxers held at arms length.

It would blow over, he thought, closing the door.

 

It didn't.

 

Another week of increasingly more destructive means of getting back at each other meant the other members began to suffer.

“Tell him.”

Junsu growled, holding up a ruined pair of his favorite jeans.

Yunho didn't bother to ask.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” he replied, turning the volume up on the TV.

 

Relief came a day later when Jaejoong walked through the door with a box from the bakery down the street. Toeing off his shoes, he didn't spare Yunho, Junsu, or Yoochun a single glance as he headed straight to Changmin’s bedroom.

The three glanced at each other before returning their attention to the TV.

“Turn it up,” Yoochun muttered as Changmin’s door slammed shut.

Changmin didn't even glance up from his laptop when Jaejoong entered the room all pent up frustration and indignant defiance after a week of being wrongly accused of a crime he never committed.

He frowned at Changmin before striding over to the bed and snatching the headphones off his head.

Changmin’s angry shout was cut off by Jaejoong thrusting the box in front of his face.

Scowling, he batted it away.

Jaejoong glowered and held it up again. “I didn't steal your cheesecake. But I bought you a new one. Blueberry. Your favorite.”

He had a sneaking suspicion of who had actually been behind the theft, because only one person in their apartment couldn't be trusted around strawberries.

Changmin stared at it.

“It's not poison,” Jaejoong said, dropping the box on his bed and turning back to the door.

He locked it.

He knew just how to get his revenge on Yunho.

 

“I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU HAD SEX ON MY BED!” Yunho’s enraged voice echoed through the apartment.

Changmin and Jaejoong just smirked at each other from across the kitchen table.


	11. Jaejoong/Yoochun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the anon who wanted Yoochun working a lot of jobs to help at home, at all of them, there's this kid selling bubble gum outside, suspiciously, only on his shift. 
> 
> I apologize Anon, I only had Jae outside of one establishment and my writers block is making for bad endings :(
> 
> Pairing: Jaejoong/Yoochun  
> Rating: G

Yoochun knew eventually, the strain of working 4 jobs and taking odd ones on the side during his free time would catch up to him.

In the morning, he delivered papers before heading to the neighborhood café for a 5 hour shift.

In the afternoon, he worked at the convenience store across the street from the café until it was time to rush across town for the closing shift at a dingy BBQ place he was pretty sure was owned by gangsters.

On his off nights, he could usually be found in a piano bar, playing for tips and a small fee.

His mother worried when he would stumble through their front door, exhausted, barely having eaten. More than once she and Yoohwan asked him to quit _just one_ job. Each time he would smile and hand over his check.

He didn't mind. His mother worked at a small bookstore nearby, and his brother was attending University. Until Yoohwan graduated, he could at least do this much.

“Please at least find a different place to work at night,” his mother pleaded, “I don't like the look of that place.”

Yoochun smiled as he slipped on his shoes.

“I'll be fine,” he reassured her before leaving.

It had been one of his rare days off at the convenience store, and though he had reluctantly allowed his mother to usher him to his room to sleep away the afternoon, he was beginning to think she might be right — he couldn't survive on two or less hours of sleep a night for much longer.

But the BBQ place paid well considering its rundown condition. That, and there was an intriguing guy who had just showed up one day a couple weeks ago, selling bubble gum to passerby. More than once, when he inched too close to their restaurant, Yoochun’s boss chased him off.

Yoochun knew the area well enough after half a year. It wasn't exactly a place a teenager was usually found, or should be at all. It was far from the glittery streets of Gangnam, but knew the custom suits of the businessmen who frequented the hostess bars and illegal gambling clubs.

And while Yoochun was pretty sure he wouldn't end up murdered in an alley, it didn't keep him from walking across the street after every shift.

“Back again, Jaejoong?” he sighed, accepting a stick of gum and handing over five times what it was worth.

Jaejoong grinned and took the money. It was always enough for a train ride to wherever he lived, and a cheap meal.

“Do you know how many gross old men with cigarette and alcohol breath need gum before they go home to their wives?” Jaejoong replied.

Yoochun popped the gum in his mouth as they walked to the train station. It had become something of a routine after Yoochun finally met Jaejoong a few weeks ago. He had tried to get him to at least sell gum in a less seedy area of town, and Jaejoong and answered just as he had earlier: all the best customers were men with sins to hide.

“Besides,” he said, “if I left you'd miss me.”

Yoochun tried to convince himself that he wouldn't. Only to feel his heart stop when Jaejoong’s eye caught his.

 

They always stayed carefully away from the topic of Jaejoong’s family. Last time Yoochun asked, he was met with a cold shrug and an indifferent, “just a bunch of sisters.”

 

Yoochun was shocked when Jaejoong had told him he was 19. He thought he had been lying until Jaejoong showed him his I.D.

“You look 15,” he had muttered, shoving Jaejoong’s I.D back at him. Jaejoong had scoffed, but looked just a _little_ pleased with the comment. 

 

“You're 23 but your hair is already receding,” Jaejoong teased another time reaching over to poke at Yoochun’s forehead.

 Yoochun had decided to treat Jaejoong to convenience store ramen that night, and immediately regretted it when he felt Jaejoong’s fingers burn into his skin.

He had forced a smile, and ducked his head to hide the pink flush on his cheeks.

That was the first and last time Yoochun had offered to treat Jaejoong to anything.

 

They always parted at the train station, Yoochun heading in one direction, and Jaejoong the other. The urge follow and make sure Jaejoong got home safely seemed to grow stronger every night, but Yoochun always forced himself to turn away. Following Jaejoong home would make him a stalker, not a concerned citizen.

 

He wasn't sure when it started, but their walks to the train station seemed to get longer. Rather than take the shortcut down a wide alley lined with small pubs that only the locals seemed to know about, they detoured through the park. Then around the park.

And then one day, Yoochun looked across the street and Jaejoong wasn't there. Not through his entire shift.

Another day went by, and Yoochun found himself looking out the front windows, only half listening to patron's orders.

After a week of Jaejoong's absence, he was antsy. Why had they never exchanged numbers?

He'd asked his boss if he had seen Jaejoong, but he only answered with a cold shrug and an indifferent, "good riddance."

Calling the police would be an overreaction.

It didn't keep him from typing 119 into his phone and staring at the number with his thumb hovering over the call button as he sat at one of the park benches.

A loud _pop_ in his ear made him jump.

He turned. Behind him was Jaejoong, chewing on his gum and grinning as if he hadn't disappeared for a week.

"Miss me?"

Yoochun scrambled to his feet and pulled Jaejoong into a tight hug with a long, shuddering sigh.

_I thought you were gone forever_ , was on the tip of his tongue.

"Yeah," he muttered, tightening his hold, "I missed you.”


	12. Yunho/Changmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request for "Homin - 'You still don't know how I feel?'"
> 
> Anon who requested this will probably hate me because it's so short, but once I got to that last part I felt like adding anything more would just...I don't...ruin the feeling I was going for?
> 
> Pairing: Yunho/Changmin  
> Rating: PG-13

“You still—” Changmin licked at Yunho's lips, pulling a moan from his throat “—don't know how I feel?”

 Yunho gasped as Changmin's hands trailed down his stomach, fingertips scorching his skin.

 

He hadn't.

 

He had wanted.

 

He had longed for it.

 

But he had never _known_.


	13. Jaejoong/Yoochun feat. Junsu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon, I think, requested Jaechun cosplaying. And because I wanted to torture Junsu a bit, I came up with this.
> 
> Sadly I had to admit I have 0 motivation to write for the TVXQ or JYJ fandom lately, so all of my writing as been rather uninspired. I really want to get these requests done though...
> 
> Pairing: Hint of Jaejoong/Yoochun  
> Rating: G

“...but why am _I_ Misa?!” Junsu practically shrieked, blond pigtails bouncing as the Red Carpet noonas giggled behind their hands and snuck photos.

“ _Because,”_ Jaejoong spun in his own chair, where he crouched in an annoyingly familiar position — one Junsu had _perfected_ while Jaejoong was off being MVP of the military.

“I’m L and Yoochun is Light.”

“ _I’m L!”_ Junsu yelled exasperated, fully aware of how petty he sounded.

Something dark flashed behind Jaejoong’s eyes and Junsu’s widened as realization hit him.

“You’re still mad aren’t you?”

Jaejoong spun the chair around so his back faced Junsu again. “Mad about what?”

Junsu opened his mouth for an angry retort and snapped it shut as Yoochun lumbered in from the next room.

“Why couldn't I wear a wig?” he grumbled, scrutinizing his reflection in the nearest mirror.

He had changed from his tattered sweats into slacks and a button-down, and now sported light brown hair with a neat but stylish cut.

Junsu tugged at the black skirt he had been wrestled into, and glared resentfully at Yoochun.

"Want to switch?"

Yoochun turned to stare at Junsu as if seriously considering his offer.

"He can't," Jaejoong hopped off the chair with a grace he didn't usually have, sidled over to Yoochun, and slipped his arm around his shoulders. "The theme is _couples_ costumes."

Yoochun blanched and tried to move away, but Jaejoong tightened his hold with a feral grin that made Junsu's stomach turn unpleasantly.

"You didn't say anything about—"

Junsu cut him off with a defeated "—aren't _Misa_ and _Light_ the—"

"—everyone knows the real couple in Death Note is L and Light," Jaejoong said, voice scarily even.

"We're not a couple..." Yoochun muttered.

Junsu and Jaejoong ignored him.

"And who am _I_ supposed to go with?"

As if he had been waiting for Junsu to ask that _exact_ question, Yoohwan walked through the door.

"No."

"Hyung these robes are way too big," Yoohwan complained, holding up his arms to show the long sleeves that hung well below his fingertips.

_"I'm not going with him!"_ Junsu shrieked.

Yoohwan huffed and tossed his fake blue hair over his shoulder. "It's not like _you're_ my first choice either, hyung, but Jaejoong-hyung promised me a role in his next MV, so."

_"Rem and Misa aren't even a couple!"_

But Jaejoong wasn't listening. Instead, he was fixing Yoochun's bangs, smiling stupidly, as Yoochun whined, his own stupid grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Next time you want a role in a play," Jaejoong said through a smile as he forced everyone together for a selfie, "just remember, I will be there for every...single...show."


	14. Jaebum and Nora

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon asked for "A scenario where you're dating Mark or JB for a while. And things got hard with his idol life & you even suspected that he's having an affair because you saw something but everything ended happily."
> 
> That sounded like a self-insertion type of fic to me? Which, I'm not really...well I can't write stuff like that so I came up with this instead.
> 
> Pairing: Jaebum and Nora?  
> Rating: G

Of course I knew he loved me. He called me "his girl" and even though I had to compete for his attention with six others, whom he often told me were like "brothers" to him, I never felt insecure. I knew Jaebum loved me. The way he smiled at me, and said my name with so much warmth was enough to make me purr.

Whenever he returned home, tired, stumbling from one room to the other before finally collapsing into his small, shared mattress with the boy he called "Youngjae," I curled next to him.

He wasn't home often, but the times he was, were the happiest.

And things started to change.

Rather than disappearing for a day or two, he was gone for a week. Maybe more. He came home later each night. His tired smiles worried me. He could only spare me a light scratch behind my ears before he would fall asleep. Most mornings he slipped out of bed and disappeared, so the red-headed one — Mark — or the loud one — Jackson — would often shuffle into the kitchen with a tired, "are you hungry?" before fixing me breakfast.

But it was ok.

I was still Jaebum's girl.

Even after he left me with his parents with an apologetic, "Youngjae-ah is allergic," I knew he still loved me. The sadness in his eyes let me know he wasn't abandoning me. That he would return. He would always return.

It was never the same after that. Whatever kept him away from me for long stretches of time never changed his love for me. I knew that. I saw him sometimes. When he had time. Our visits were short, and I would feel lonely for a long time after he left. But I knew he would return.

Then one day...something very strange happened.

He came home with an odd scent. One he had never smelled like before, but I knew it right away — _dog_.

I pressed my nose into his palm, sniffing out the scent, trying to understand _where_ he picked it up from. When I stared up at him accusingly, he just smiled. "Do you smell Coco?"

_Coco._

What kind of name was _that_?

I suppressed the growl threatening to bubble through my chest.

He chuckled and scratched behind my ears. But I moved away. Even the long absences hadn't made me feel like this — betrayed, abandoned, unloved.

How could he give me up for a _dog_?

"Nora-yah..." his playful whine mixed with a soft chuckle as he picked me up and cradled me against his chest. I struggled but he held on tighter. "Are you jealous?"

I stopped struggling, and stared up at him.

He scratched behind my ears. "Mark and Youngjae are raising a puppy," he explained. "She's really cute."

I pouted up at him even though I knew he couldn't understand. So I mewed up at him to let him know I was listening.

He chuckled again and placed a soft kiss on my head. "But you're still my girl," he murmured.


	15. Changmin/Junsu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon wanted tsundere Changmin and cute af Junsu.
> 
> Pairing: Changmin/Junsu  
> Rating: G

Junsu’s “ _eunkyangkyang_!” echoed through their empty apartment as Changmin’s Playstation controller flew across their living room and clattered to the floor.

Still cackling, Junsu wrapped his arms around Changmin’s waist and rested his chin on his shoulder with a shit-eating grin.

Changmin scowled at the TV screen where “XIAH WINS” continued to flash, mocking him.

“I win again,” Junsu teased.

Changmin tried to peel him off with an annoyed growl but Junsu just held him tighter.

“Don't be such a sore loser, Min,” he chuckled.

Changmin turned to glare at him, and regretted it immediately. The usual warmth spread through his body as Junsu smiled up at him with a boyish grin and playful eyes.

Without meaning to, Junsu had won again — melting the cold walls Changmin had tried to build between him and the rest of the world. When sharp words were on the tip of his tongue, Junsu dulled them into something soft and warm.

He stood, throwing Junsu off so he landed back on the couch. Without his suffocating heat, Changmin felt like he could breathe better even if his skin felt cold.

“We’re having ramen,” he muttered, turning on his heel.

Junsu whined as he followed him into the kitchen. “You promised if I won we could go out for katsu!”

He did. But that was when he thought he would win. With the other members out of the apartment for the majority of the night, Changmin wasn't in any hurry to leave. Not when Junsu was right here. With no other obligations than to spend the night with Changmin, beating him at video games and sharing a pot of ramen. 

“I already showered,” he mumbled, pulling out two packs of ramen.

Junsu sulked from the kitchen table as Changmin boiled the water and dumped the noodles in. He could feel Junsu’s eyes on him as if he was trying to burn holes into his back.

“Jaejoong can make us Katsu tomorrow,” he relented with a faint twinge of guilt.

When Junsu didn't respond, he dumped the packets of seasoning into the pot, stirred, and placed it on the table.

He fought a small smile when Junsu’s tongue darted out to lick at his lips. Despite his earlier complaints, he gazed hungrily at their modest dinner and quickly snatched up his chopsticks.

“It's not so bad,” he mumbled, helping himself to a large mouthful.

Changmin snorted and poked his forehead as he reached for another helping. “And people call me the pig,” he said, fondness creeping into his voice.

Junsu grinned and leaned over the pot again, slurping up the noodles.

“Yah,” Changmin batted his chopsticks away with his own, “leave some for me.”

Still grinning, Junsu stuck his tongue out and swatted at Changmin's chopsticks.

By the end of their meal, the kitchen table was covered in splattered ramen broth, and a stray noodle hanging off the edge.

“We'll clean it up later,” Junsu said, as he dragged Changmin back into the living room for a rematch.

It lasted less than an hour.

Changmin scowled at the screen, once again flashing “XIAH WINS.”

“I quit,” he tossed the controller away, as Junsu cheered, “this game is rigged.”

Junsu only laughed and ruffled his hair. “You’re such a sore loser.”

Changmin jerked back and stared at him. His stupid grinning face and bright, playful eyes. He was losing again. Junsu had once again gained the upper hand. Won over Changmin’s pride. Melted away the annoyance.

He leaned forward.

Whether he was accepting defeat or claiming victory for once, he didn't know 

But it didn't matter once his lips covered Junsu’s. Silenced his laughter and molded his grin into a soft sigh as he pulled Changmin closer.

Yeah, he thought, this time...

He definitely won.


	16. Changmin/Yunho

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon wanted an America's Next Top Model type of thing but instead it's Jaejoong's Next Top Lover, and I could switch out Jae for any DBSK guy, so I did. And Changmin was the victim.
> 
> Also I'm sorry I wrote this and let my thoughts carry it so...
> 
> Pairing: Changmin/Yunho  
> Rating: PG-13 (?)

In hindsight, Changmin should have known soju, America's Next Top Model, and X-rated fanfiction would have lead to this.

What he _didn't_ understand, is how _he_ was the one sitting in the large armchair, watching the four older members debate _who_ would be the best "top." And not just any "top," but _his._ As if any one of them could—

"Yah, we all know Changmin would _break_ Junsu before he could even—"

Junsu smothered Jaejoong with a pillow before he could even finish his sentence.

"That last fanfiction we read had you tied up and begging— _oof!"_

Jaejoong retaliated with his own pillow in Junsu's face before he could finish.

Changmin watched the two wrestle and argue, not looking away until Yoochun plopped himself in his lap. He squished Changmin's cheeks together and forced him to look up.

Grinning, eyes sparkling with amusement, he moved Changmin's head back and forth as he cooed, "our little Changminnie is all grown up."

He leaned forward, voice soft and thick with alcohol.

Changmin tensed as his breath ghosted across his cheek, "maybe he should choose," Yoochun grinned, "how about it Min-ah? Which one of us could top you?"

He pressed a swift kiss to Changmin's cheek, and seconds later, he was yanked off.

Changmin's throat tightened.

Of course...he had never actually given any _serious_ thought to this. It was ridiculous.

But something like anticipation pooled low in his stomach when he stared up at Yunho. He swallowed.

Yunho's usual smiling face and soft expressions were etched into a hard frown.

"Don't be ridiculous," he pushed Yoochun towards the pile that had become Junsu and Jaejoong, "everyone knows you wouldn't have the energy."

Ok so maybe Changmin _had_ thought about it.

Once.

By accident.

"Besides," Yunho smirked and leaned over Changmin, with one hand planted on the arm of the chair, and the other reaching to tilt Changmin's chin up. "Changminnie likes me best—OW!"

Jaejoong had scooted across the floor and kicked Yunho's feet from under him, so he landed with a heavy _thump_ in front of Changmin.

"You're the biggest bottom of them all," he grumbled.

"You're just pissed because _you_ bottom in all the YunJae—"

Jaejoong smothered him with the pillow. "One more word..." he trailed off menacingly.

Yunho threw Jaejoong off, and into Yoochun, who had inched forward again. Junsu was once again scrolling through the fanfiction site, muttering under his breath, "why do I _always_ bottom?"

" _I'm_ the oldest," Jaejoong said, shuffling forward.

Changmin stared at them. Why was this even a thing? Did they expect him to actually choose?

Yunho pushed him back into Yoochun. _"I'm_ the leader."

"You bottom in all of the HoMin fics," Jaejoong argued back.

"What few there are," Yoochun grinned.

" _And_ I still top more than you," Jaejoong added.

Yunho opened his mouth to argue, but Yoochun hit him with another pillow. "Let Changmin decide."

They all turned their eyes on Changmin and stared at him expectantly.

"Well?" Jaejoong prompted, still half sitting on Yoochun.

He blinked. "You can't be serious..."

"It's just for fun," Yoochun shrugged.

When Changmin didn't answer, a wicked grin spread across his lips and he sat up a little straighter. "Isn't it, Changmin-ah?"

His eyes flicked to Yunho, who was staring at him intently.

This was the exact opposite of fun.

He stood. "I'm going to bed."

There was no way he was admitting to any of them that he had actually thought about this.

He made the mistake of catching Yunho's eye before he left, and could feel his gaze as he made his unsteady way to their shared bedroom.

He collapsed into bed and sighed into his pillow.

Never again. Soju and fanfiction were never going to happen again. It gave his members stupid ideas. It gave him impossible ones.

He heard the bedroom door open and close with a soft _click_. Hoping Yunho would assume he was asleep, he lay still, keeping his breaths slow and even.

His bed dipped and a warm weight hovered over him as Yunho leaned over, lips pressed to the shell of his ear.

A low chuckle sent shivers down Changmin's spine.

Yunho whispered, "I think I've won."


	17. Changmin/Junsu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon wanted cuddling Minsu
> 
> Pairing: Changmin/Junsu  
> Rating: G

Changmin wasn’t fond of cuddles. Hated them, in fact.

Jaejoong tried, and received a swift kick every time.

When Yunho cuddled up to him, whining and pouting, Changmin reluctantly gave in.

Yoochun laughed as Changmin struggled out of his hold with loud complaints and violent threats.

Then there was Junsu.

Unknowingly falling asleep on his shoulder in the van. Shuffling closer on the couch as they played video games until their shoulders pressed together and there was nothing more to do than drawn his knees up and curl next to Changmin.

At first, the usual complaints bubbled into his throat. His muscles tensed, ready to move away or kick Junsu off. But he could never bring himself to do it. Junsu would grin up at him and Changmin’s annoyance would melt into something warm and unfamiliar. Being next to Junsu was different. Comfortable. 

Soon Changmin found himself gravitating towards Junsu. Found that Junsu wasn’t falling asleep on his shoulder any more, but instead it was he who was nodding off on Junsu. Changmin was the one planting himself firmly between Junsu and anyone else on the couch. The one pressing their shoulders together, and letting their knees bump.

So really…

It was only natural, too, then, that when Changmin couldn’t sleep, he found his way into Junsu’s room and slipped under the covers.

Junsu stirred just enough to murmur a tired, “Changmin-ah,” and wrap his arms around him before they fell asleep.

Changmin decided he still hated cuddling. But only if it wasn’t Junsu.


	18. Jackson/Jinyoung & Jaejoong/Changmin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon wanted Jackson and Jaejoong meeting with some jealous Changmin thrown in there. And because I am a horrible person...this probably didn't really turn out the way they imagined. BUT I have to thank dreamsaboutsky for the idea, because I was seriously stuck!
> 
> Rating: G  
> Pairing: Jackson/Jinyoung; Jaejoong/Changmin

“I'm just saying it shouldn't have been _that_ easy to _kidnap_ someone,” said a voice Jackson had never heard before.

Who was kidnapped?

It couldn't be him right? Wouldn't make sense. He was just at the bar, celebrating making it into the Finals for the Asian Fencing Games, talking to a pretty guy at the bar…

“Don't ask _me_ ,” another voice hissed, sounding oddly familiar, “I already told you I didn't want to do this anyway, but you just _had_ to say yes!”

Someone poked his cheek. “He’s not dead right.”

“Of course not, I slipped one sleeping pill into his drink. He’ll be fine,” a short pause, “probably.”

Oh.

So it _was_ him who was kidnapped. Ok.

His eyes snapped open.

He was kidnapped!

He tried to sit up but ended up rolling off the overstuffed couch and onto a hard floor. He struggled to stand, but his hands were tied in front of him and his ankles bound.

“Oh…” breathed a soft voice, the one he recognized earlier, “you're awake.”

A face belonging to a boy he had never seen before appeared in front of his. He blinked. “Doesn't look dead,” he murmured.

Jackson struggled to sit up, nearly headbutting the boy in his haste.

“Where am I?” he asked, looking around the small room. He gasped when he saw a familiar face. “Jaejoong-hyung?”

The pretty guy who had been chatting with him at the bar grimaced. “Sorry Jackson…”

Jackson gaped open-mouthed at him. “I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!” he whined, “why did you kidnap me? What did I ever do to you?” he gasped again, “oh god you're one of those organ harvesters aren't you? You're going to take my kidney and leave me in a shipping yard somewhere to die—”

“—yeah we’re only keeping you for a few days,” replied a tall, scowling man next to Jaejoong.

Jackson looked at him, more terrified than before. “You're going to torture me first?!” he cried.

The boy, who was still crouched next to him began to laugh. Jackson briefly took note of the little wrinkles that formed at the corner of his eyes. Cute. For a kidnapper about to slice him open for his kidneys.

“He’s funny.”

Tall scowling repo man glared at him. “Quiet, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung stuck his tongue out at him and turn back to smile at Jackson.

“We’re not going to torture you or take your kidneys,” he patted Jackson’s cheek in what might have been a comforting gesture had it not felt so condescending. “We’ll return you, complete with organs, in three days.”

Jackson gaped at him. “THREE DAYS?"

He had the Finals in two days! He couldn't miss the Finals, it was one of qualifiers for the Olympics!

He moaned. His father would kill him if he missed them this time!

His kidnappers seemed to understand and while tall, scowling kidnapper continued to stare at him, unrepentant, Jaejoong looked apologetic.

“I'm sorry, Jackson…” he moved forward and looked genuinely hurt when Jackson recoiled. “We don't usually kidnap people.”

“Paintings and rare artifacts mostly,” Jinyoung supplied.

“But Changmin took the money so—”

“WHAT ABOUT MY MATCH?!”

Jaejoong flinched.

“That's why you're here,” tall kidnapper said, sounding impatient. 

Jinyoung smiled and nodded a little too enthusiastically in agreement and Jaejoong just looked at Jackson like a kicked puppy.

He flopped against the edge of the couch.

Well shit.

 

*

 

"It’s not poisoned,” Jaejoong and Jinyoung frowned at him, their faces disturbingly close to his as they learned across the kitchen table.

They decided the best way to win Jackson’s trust was to feed him. So Jaejoong made kimchi jjigae and a variety of sides. The problem was, Changmin, the tall scowling kidnapper, refused to untie Jackson’s hands or feet.

So he sat awkwardly at the kitchen table, with Jaejoong and Jinyoung peering at him like a couple of curious children.

He held up his hands. “How am I supposed to eat?”

Jaejoong and Jinyoung glanced at each other and immediately dived for the spoon.

“I'll do it,” Jinyoung insisted.

“I cooked, it's not a problem.”

“You cooked so I'll feed.”

“I'm older—”

Jaejoong yelped as Changmin appeared and jerked his seat back. Jackson shivered. The temperature seemed to drop 10 degrees as Changmin stared down at him.

“Jinyoung feed Jackson,” he pulled a protesting Jaejoong out of his chair. “Hyungs have to talk.”

Jinyoung snorted as the bedroom door slammed shut. “Yeah they're not talking.”

 

* 

 

“Only if you promise not to— DAMN IT!”

The moment Jinyoung cut the ties to his ankle restraints, Jackson bolted for the door.

A hand grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him back to the living room where he had been watching some drama about a vampire who was apparently a surgeon.

“Nice try,” Changmin growled, tossing Jackson back onto the couch. Jaejoong held him down as Changmin retied his ankles.

“Three days,” Changmin grumbled, tightening the knot. “I should have asked for more money.”

 

* 

 

The next morning, he awoke to a high-pitched howl. Still groggy, he rubbed his eyes and blinked slowly at the blue-grey furry thing staring at him over the edge of the bed he was forced to share with Jinyoung “in case he runs again,” according to Changmin.

“Cat…” he murmured, blinking again.

“Jiji!” Jaejoong entered the room, looking distraught, holding a pink kitty jumper in a badly scratched hand, “come on just enough for a picture, please—?”

He saw Jackson staring at him and stopped. “You're awake?”

Jackson nodded and watched Jaejoong stoop down to grab a hold of his cat, who bolted immediately.

“He knows Jiji means penis right…” he muttered as Jaejoong chased Jiji out of the room.

A soft snort behind him made him jump. Jinyoung was awake. Without meaning to, he grinned too.

 

*

 

Jinyoung and Changmin were off on a “recognizance” mission, which apparently meant they were wandering around some private museum, scoping out their next target.

“How do you know I won't report you to the police?” he eyed Jaejoong suspiciously.

“I don't,” Jaejoong shrugged, munching on a bag of chips, eyes glued to the TV.

They were once again in the living room, television turned on to a marathon of another drama — this time it about a guy acting as some kind of vigilante and finding out he has terminal cancer.

Jackson didn't get it.

 

An hour later they were arguing over whether the main character should reveal his true identity to the girl he was in love with.

“Do you know how many problems would be solved if he just told her?!” Jackson practically shouted, throwing up his arms (Jaejoong untied his wrists around episode 4). “She thinks she's in love with someone else!”

Jaejoong glowered at him, curled as far away from Jackson on the other end of the couch like his opinion was a particularly disgusting spider.

“That would literally ruin the entire plot!” he argued, “there wouldn't even be a story!”

 

By the time Changmin and Jinyoung returned in the evening, Jaejoong and Jackson were clinging to each other, eyes misty with tears as the two main characters shared a final kiss before the cancer finally took the vigilante’s life.

“...not even going to ask,” Jinyoung muttered, heading to the kitchen.

Changmin peeled Jaejoong away from Jackson. “Why are his ankle restraints off.”

Jackson looked down. Oh. He glanced at the door, back at Changmin.

He slumped against the back of the couch with a sigh. Not even worth it.

 

*

 

Jackson screwed up his face in disgust. “Someone paid you five million U.S dollars for this?”

He was staring at a particularly hideous painting of...something. Jackson thought it looked like a human crossed with an ogre that had its face melted off — all browns and greens and really Jackson never understood art.

What was more extraordinary was a piece of apparently valuable stolen art was just sitting against the wall of an otherwise normal apartment.

“How have you not been arrested yet.”

Jinyoung and Jaejoong just grinned at him.

 

*

 

“I can't believe I'm missing the tournament for 50 million won!” Jackson whined, sitting between Jinyoung and Jaejoong on the couch as Changmin stared at him with narrow eyes from his spot in the armchair.

It was the night of his competition and Jackson had convinced Jinyoung to pull up a low-quality live stream on his laptop so he could watch.

He glowered at the screen, clutching at a pillow in his arms. 50 million won...because that _chaebol_ Im Jaebum didn't want to face him.

“Coward,” he growled, when Jaebum walked out for his first match, “just wait until I see you at the qualifiers in Hong Kong you little—”

He cut himself off as the camera focused on Jaebum, who had taken off his mask and stared into the camera.

“I'm forfeiting this match.”

Jackson gaped at the screen.

At the same time, Changmin’s phone rang.

“No refunds,” he hung up.

“Jackson Wang!” Jaebum addressed the camera, an annoying smirk on his lips, “I'll see you in Hong Kong. Don't run away this time.”

Jinyoung stiffened next to him as he chucked the pillow at the laptop. He was so killing Jaebum when they met in Hong Kong.

 

*

 

As promised, Changmin, Jaejoong, and Jinyoung returned Jackson, completely unharmed, to the hotel his team was staying in. His coach was already waiting for him in the lobby — apparently Jaejoong had called.

He was halfway through bullshitting some story about the pressure getting to him and hiding out at a friend’s house, when Im Jaebum walked through the lobby. He caught Jackson’s eye and immediately headed over.

He groaned. Of _all_ times he had to see Jaebum it was now.

Jaebum came to a halt just in front of him and frowned.

“I told my father I’ll abandon him and the company if he does that again,” he said coolly.

Jackson stared at him. “YOU KNEW?!”

Jaebum smirked.

At that moment, Jinyoung appeared. He glanced at Jaebum like he was no more significant than a wall, and instead looked at Jackson. His eyes wrinkled as he smiled.

“You forgot this.”

He wrapped a thick, red scarf around Jackson’s neck. Heat rose up his neck and colored his cheeks and it had nothing to do with the scarf that was definitely not his.

“Uh...thanks…”

The scarf that wasn't his smelled faintly like Jinyoung, and he felt a strange, pleasant stir in his stomach as Jinyoung adjusted the scarf.

“See you, Jackson,” he smiled, “good luck in Hong Kong,” he stepped back and turned to leave, eyeing Jaebum as he walked away.

Jaebum raised an eyebrow at him, but Jackson could only grin.

 

*

 

A few months later, at the stadium just before his match with Jaebum, his coach called him out of the locker room.  

"You have visitors,” he said, gesturing to the lobby area usually full of friends, family, and reporters.

Confused, because his parents had already stopped by, Jackson walked out and saw three figures he never thought he'd see again.

He slowed his pace and eyed them warily even as Jinyoung and Jaejoong beamed and hurried over excitedly, with Changmin trailing slowly behind.

“Please don't tell me you're here to kidnap me again.”

Jinyoung laughed even as Jaejoong grinned sheepishly. “No.”

“We came here to watch your match!” Jaejoong looked around excitedly.

“Im Jaebum’s father also put out another kidnapping bounty," Changmin said.

Jackson jumped back.

“You _are_ here to kidnap me!” he pouted, “hyuuunnng…”

Changmin scowled at him. “We’re not. We’re here to protect you.”

Jackson, who had been whining about trust and how he thought they were _cool_ and that Jinyoung had even given him his phone number and _promised_ never to kidnap anyone again, stopped immediately.

“What?”

Jaejoong grinned even as Changmin looked disgusted with himself.

“Someone else paid us 10 million won for your protection.”

He gaped at them. “Who?!”

“Silver will look good on you, Jackson,” Im Jaebum appeared behind him, infuriating smirk a permanent fixture on his stupid face. “I don't want to see you miss out on it.”

Jackson spun on his heel just as Jaebum walked by them, on his way to the adjacent locker room.

“WHAT WAS THAT YOU LITTLE—!”

He tried to follow but Jinyoung wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him back.

“Let me go!” he struggled.

“Nope." Jinyoung held on tighter. “Protection duty.”

Scowling, Jackson threw Jinyoung off and stormed back to his locker room. “Silver? HA!” he nearly ripped his shirt off as he changed. “As if. You are so going to regret not kidnapping me this time Im Jaebum.”


	19. Yoochun/Jaejoong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LAST ONE! For sweet_emi, who requested a Jaechun without them being soulmates or best friends. I am finally done!!
> 
> Vampire!Jae and werewolf!Yoochun
> 
> Rating: R  
> Pairing: Jaejoong/Yoochun

"Fucking— _ah—_ vampires—" Yoochun moaned as Jaejoong snapped his hips forward.

He bowed his head between his arms, elbows digging into the mattress as Jaejoong drove into him. His fingers bruised into Yoochun's hips.

A soft chuckle danced along his skin. Jaejoong's cold fingers wrapped around Yoochun's cock and stroked.

"You say that Chun-ah," he purred, drawing out another low moan from Yoochun's throat as he slowly pulled out, "and yet you keep coming back." He snapped his hips forward again, and Yoochun cried out.

Curses. Growls. Threats.

It only drove Jaejoong on. Faster. Harder.

Vampires and werewolves weren't supposed to mix.

And Yoochun _hated_ vampires. All of them. They were cold, merciless, _monsters_.

But Jaejoong drew him in every time.

With his sharp eyes and cold smiles.

The way he said, "back again, Yoochun?" whenever one of Yoochun's wolves unwittingly wandered into Jaejoong's territory and gotten themselves into trouble, sent vibrations down his spine and hot, pooling want into the pit of his stomach.

"Last—" he gasped as he spilled into Jaejoong's hand and onto the bed sheets "—time."

With another deep thrust, Jaejoong came inside him, and they collapsed.

"You said that last time, Chun-ah," Jaejoong chuckled into the back of his neck as he pulled out. He nipped lightly at the skin and licked up a small bead of blood with a content hum.

Yoochun didn't have the energy to retort. Instead he let his eyelids drift close and sleep overtake him. Because he knew Jaejoong would be there when he woke up. He always was. Just like Jaejoong knew Yoochun could never stay away, Yoochun knew Jaejoong would never leave.


End file.
